


Mr. McGonagall

by The3ookNook



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Minerva McGonagall, Growing Up, Mentor Minerva McGonagall, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-04-30 09:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14494302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The3ookNook/pseuds/The3ookNook
Summary: After the tragic death of the Potters, Minerva McGonagall steps in to take care of their orphaned son Harry. What are she and Dumbledore supposed to do? Leave him with his horrid relatives? Ha! If the Death Eaters want to come after her they're going to have a hell of a time beating one of the greatest witches in the wizarding world.





	Mr. McGonagall

 

"Good lord," She breathed.

 

Dumbledore was already going to do it, but her hands shot out before he could finish raising his wand. His eyes look more like pools than ever before. They'd always been startlingly blue. Years worth of knowledge had given them a certain sharpness she'd seen countless wizards try to mimic with fancy robes or accolades. Now though, they flashed with an unnerving amount of helplessness, made even more horrific when he slumped to one knee and fell back into a sit. Moisture welled up on two blue shores, building and building until she never thought they would run down his checks. The reflection of his glasses caused the sadness in his eyes to double, triple. It kept bouncing back and forth until the depths of his eyes seemed bottomless. Maybe they would never fill up. Maybe he would never truly cry. If you had told her that, that Dumbledore never cried, a few days ago, she would find it both comforting and unsurprising. Dumbledore seemed too knowledgeable to be caught off guard, and almost all bad things in life started with unpleasant surprises.

 

Like now. Like this. _Good lord._

 

Before now, that impression of Dumbledore felt less like an idea and more like a fact. Seeing it shattered sent something cold to claw its way into her throat and down into her stomach.

 

The frigidness turned to nausea as Dumbledore broke her expectations again. His bottomless eyes filled and a confluence of rivers poured down his face. They disappeared into his silver beard, which soon began to shine in the dim light. Tired and mourning, he looked like a wraith.

 

"Minerva, just use your wand," He whispered.

 

She _heard_  him but she didn't hear him. And it didn't have anything to do with little Harry Potter's wailing. Still fumbling with the faucet, she swatted at the lightbulb hanging about the sink with her hat in an attempt to, what, make things a little brighter? The light flickered then blazed to life, searing her eyes with its bright glare. As Harry Potter lets out another wail, she realized her eyes were already burning. It's been a while since she cried. She had been young and didn't know yet that there were far better things to waste sobbing on than a man. The sensation was now foreign to her. She didn't recognize it at first.

 

 "Minerva," Dumbledore started to pick himself up.

 

"No! I can do it," She snapped.

 

His robes billowed as he creakily pulled himself to his feet. The knobs of the faucet are stuck, damn them. Minerva shifted to the side, hand straining. Just as Dumbledore's hand began to lower on top of her's, she got it. Water trickled out of the faucet. Nudging Dumbledore away with her hip, she shakily moved Harry Potter under the faucet. 

 

If Dumbledore looked like a wraith, Harry Potter looked like death. Blood sloppily painted his forehead red. He blinked hard and often as he wailed. She'd never seen an infant cry so hard before. She didn't need to rinse off his cheeks. Harry's tears were doing a fine job all by themselves. Minerva automatically decided the weeping, jagged scar cutting across his forehead was the ugliest thing she'd ever seen.

 

"Who did this? Who did this?" She whispered, quickly reaching for a clean towel.  Harry's wound still hadn't clotted yet, and she only had a split second to get something to wrap around his head before his bleeding got out of control again.

 

"Minerva," Dumbledore closed his eyes.

 

She refused to look at him. She knew who it was really, what had happened. She just didn't want to hear it out loud. None of it felt quite real yet.

 

"Where is he going?" She pressed the towel to Harry's forehead.

 

The feeling started to return to her fingers. Reaching down, she pulled out her wand a warbled a spell under her breath. The towel on Harry's forehead splitted and braided itself into a sturdy band that knotted itself above his ear. His wailing quiets into fearful sobs, and he looks at her appraisingly, fearfully. Her heart ached.

 

"It was caused by a curse. The scar. It might take a while to start scabbing over," Dumbledore rubbed his face.

 

"Where is he going?" She repeated, more firmly now.

 

"Family," Dumbledore reached.

 

Minerva turned sharply, "I sincerely doubt that Potter's dungheap of a family wants anything good to do with this poor child. It's half their fault the Potter's were so alone in the first place."

 

"Minerva," Dumbledore snapped, fatigue turning into fury, "This is not the time to blame anyone. A great witch and wizard have died."

 

Minera swallowed but didn't correct herself. Tonight was just full of firsts, wasn't it?

 

Harry Potter was still crying. His nose was bright red, and his eyes were so small that she almost missed him looking at her. His small hand slowly uncurled from it's little first. He reached out for her face. He has the same cautious expression she saw years ago on Lily Evans' face when James Potter asked her to the Yule Ball. Years worth of his pranks and seeing him harass Snape had made her cautious. Years worth of their flirting and his one-sided greetings had left her curious.

 

Something in Minerva dissolved.

 

"The Evans actually. Their other daughter, and her family. That's where Harry is going," Dumbledore continued.

 

Minerva jumped, "Dumbledore are you thinking straight? I've been watching those people for weeks. They're awful. You can't leave that child there."

 

Dumbledore opened his arms for Harry, "This is no time to be getting sentimental."

 

"But it is the time to be getting practical," Minerva straightened her spine, "You think the benefits of leaving him with some family that is so unmagical Voldemort would hardly think to suspect them is worth the risks? What if he becomes an Obscurial?"

 

Dumbledore reeled, "Minerva! This is not the time to be --"

 

"This is exactly the time!" Minerva shouted, and Harry started crying again.

 

"You've thought more about Harry's body than his mind, more about practicality than emotion. After all this child's been through, you want to dump him on the doorstep of one of the worst wastes of oxygen I've ever seen?" Minerva held Harry closer.

 

"You're going to give me a lecture on emotion?" Dumbledore rumbled.

 

"If I have to, you've seemed to have forgotten," Minerva spat.

 

Minerva's heart was beating a mile a minute. She had never yelled at Dumbledore like that. She never thought she would want to.

 

"There's no one else!" Dumbledore threw his hands up, eyes crinkling, "No one who could give him everything he needs. I've got offers from powerful wizards who want to raise him like a pompous prince, noble wizards who can barely afford to feed themselves much less a baby, wizards who have everything but an ounce of skill. The only option is to -- "

 

"I'll take him," She interrupted.

 

Dumbledore lowered his arms. He looked at her like she'd grown another head.

 

"We'll never stay in one place for too long. I've been an Animagus for a while. I know enough hideouts to last three lifetimes. I can do both. Work at Hogwarts and take care of Harry, I mean," She stammered.

 

When was the last time she felt this flustered? When she was younger, maybe, and prettier. She had suitors from all over, but she had heard the same compliments over and over enough times that they became white noise. It was her almost-husband's voice that did her in. The touch of his hands on her's, how he said the best part of her eyes was how they let him peer through her head and gaze at her beautiful mind. 

 

Then she remembered that mind was better used somewhere else. It would be irresponsible to leave the wizarding world. It would take her away from things she needed to do. Things like Harry.

 

"Dumbledore! 'ere is 'e? Are you 'ere? Ah couldn' git 'im, the bastard. Ah woulda boiled his 'ead, if the coward gave me the chance. Ah --"

 

Hagrid stopped in the door, literally. It was a tiny little hideout and the door had been slim and stout enough that Minerva had to take off her hat in order to get in. Hagrid's shoulders bulged in the door frame, his coat bunching up around the entrance. His big face was red, with snot sloppily running down his face as he fumbled with a crooked hand to pull himself out of the entrance and forward. It all made him look extremely swollen.

 

A musical sound rose up from her arms. Little Harry Potter lifted a small fist. Uncurling it, he pointed to Hagrid and let loose a series of joyful giggles, his fear forgotten. Minerva quickly wiped at the dried snot under his nose and tried not to smile like an idiot. Lifting the towel, she checked Harry's scar while he was distracted and relaxed. It was finally starting to scab over, thank Merlin.

 

Hagrid wiggled his legs, trying to get any sort of traction. Grunting, he kicked out with his feet and burst forward with a crack of the old door frame, falling onto his face.

 

Harry lost it. Wildly waving his hands around, he beat one against her chest as if to say, 'look at this guy'. Her grip on him tightened.

 

"Is that 'im?" Hagrid seemed to forget himself too, "Can ah 'old 'im?"

 

Minerva and Dumbledore both looked at each other. Hagrid had stopped crying, and the grief had cleared from his face. He wasn't happy, but the grief that had been clearly wracking through him seemed to have dissolved. For the moment, Harry seemed to have distracted him.

 

An idea planted itself in Minerva's mind, and before Dumbledore could say anything, she answered.

 

"Why not? Come here Hagrid?" Minerva gestured.

 

Fumbling to his feet, Hagrid staggered over, hands slowly unfolding themselves. Gently, she began to hold Harry away from her body. Slowly, she lowered him into Hagrid's huge palms. Hagrid's hands were shaking. He gently curled his fingers around the baby's sides, obviously trying not to squeeze too hard. Harry happily rolled to his side; there was enough room in Hagrid's hands for him to fall asleep if he wanted to. They were almost the size of a crib.

 

 _A nice crib, with plenty of cushioning. Plenty of pillows. I'll get him all the teddy bears in the world._ Minerva thought.

 

"Dumbledore wants to drop him off with his awful relatives," Minerva interjected.

 

Dumbledore, looked at her, raising his eyebrows. She couldn't blame him, she was honestly sort of surprised at herself.

 

"What? Min's not talkin' 'bout those awful Dursels is she Dumbledore?" Hagrid exclaimed.

 

Dumbledore sighed, "Dursleys Hagrid."

 

Hagrid worked his mouth. He frowned down at Harry, then at Dumbledore's feet. He seemed to be struggling between his admiration for the headmaster and his sudden love for the infant in his arms. 

 

"But why? Ah don' understand," Hagrid gently rocked Harry Potter.

 

"It's safer with the Dursleys Hagrid. Besides, there's no one else suitable that could take him," Dumbledore explained, inching forward.

 

Minerva moved closer to Hagrid too. She knew he would try and get Harry back while Hagrid held him. The half-giant liked him so much that convincing him to defy the old wizard would be extremely hard. But she was up for the challenge. She studied how Hagrid's hands began to shake and resisted the urge to snatch back Harry. All she had to do is let Hagrid hold Harry a little longer.

 

Again, she was surprised by her own actions. This was all happening so fast.

 

"No one?" Hagrid muttered.

 

"I offered to take him," Minerva injected.

 

Hagrid straightened immediately, "Well that's it innit! Give 'em to Min Dumbledore. She's a damn good witch. Try'n imagine a Death Eater gettin' her."

 

Hagrid's big eyes looked like they belonged to a baby mastiff. Dumbledore faltered and sighed. The bags around his eyes never seemed so prominent. Studying them both, he suddenly smiled, and Minerva began to worry.

 

"Fine then. Hagrid, you'll check in regularly on Minerva and Harry for me. Minerva, you'll have to arrange or Hagrid to know all your locations and expect a drop in at any time," Dumbledore ordered.

 

Minerva froze up as Hagrid cracked a huge smile. 

 

"Great! Aw, 'ah can see little 'arry whenever I want? How's that sound Min?"

 

Minerva thought about the quiet she'd gotten used to, all her delicate possessions and china. Besides being extremely private, they were delicate, something that did not go with Hagrid at all. Tact also seemed lost on him. She imagined having him appear out of thin air out of nowhere, his loud voice breaking up a quiet afternoon.

 

Harry squirmed in Hagrid's hands, playing with his huge fingers. Minerva reprimanded herself. And how much noise did she think a baby would make then? Did she think she was going to have some miracle baby that didn't make any trouble?

 

Still, Harry wouldn't ask questions for a long time. He was still a baby. In a way, she would still have her privacy.

 

Dumbledore seemed to sense her hesitation. Touching Hagrid's arm, he gestured with his wand.

 

"Here, Hagrid, give him to me. If I'm going to drop him off --"

 

"Fine!" Minerva shouted. 

 

She took Harry back from Hagrid's arms, tuning out Hagrid's sound of disappointment. She needed to start planning for Harry immediately; his room, his future. He would be attending Hogwarts of course, but she still needed to raise him first. She'd do something about this mop of hair on his head, teach him to be the perfect little gentleman, and a supreme spellcaster.

 

Dumbledore spoke in a tone she couldn't quite read, "When will your first accommodations be set up?"

 

Minerva drew her wand and raised it to the sky. She knew a place, but it needed some cleaning up first, and she wasn't going to get just anything for Harry. She refused to spoil him, but she admitted she was a little out of her depth. She needed to read a little first, make a list.

 

Her stomach churned as she remembered his crying. He had obviously been scarred, but there was no way to know how much he would remember. Sure he was a baby, but the scar on his forehead was magical. He might remember more about this night than he could possibly understand at this age. She'd have to look into things like dealing with infants plagued with night terrors. Hagrid knew a lot about magical creatures, including some of the remedies that came with them. He might be more of a helping hand than she first thought.

 

"I'll let you know," She said curtly, apparating. 


End file.
